


Ride?

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-15
Updated: 2002-02-15
Packaged: 2018-11-20 11:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11334819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atThe Basement, which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onThe Basement's collection profile.





	Ride?

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Ride?

Ride?

The sky was an almost painful purple, pregnant with dawn, as they drove. Mulder still didn't know where they were, but he knew it had to be coastal: The road they followed bordered the sea, the deep grey water more alluring than the dark highway. Krycek pushed his foot to the accelerator, as if wanting to outrun something.

Mulder stared out the window at the still-dark side of the sky, the dilapidated houses breezing past. He was thinking about love. How, he thought, does one fall into a feeling? What a silly phrase. I still feel like I'm falling. His hand absentmindedly worked at smoothing the wrinkles from his expensive woolen suit. Krycek looked decidedly more presentable in white t-shirt, blue jeans, black leather jacket and gloves. Mulder had eschewed his tie, not bothering with buttoning his crumpled shirt all the way, and the wind blowing through the cracked-open window whisked down his chest, making him shiver.

"Where are we going, Krycek?" Damn. He hated how husky, raw his voice sounded. Breathy. Needy.

A muscle jumped in Krycek's jaw, and Mulder could feel the car speed up, could almost see the foot bearing down on the pedal. He looked vaguely menacing as always, though the effect was somewhat diminished by the vivid pink rash left by Mulder's stubble blushing his pale face. "Alex," he said. His teeth were clenched, turning the word into a hiss. He was trying not to look at Mulder.

"Alex. Where?"

"I told you before. I don't know. We're just...going." He ran a gloved hand back through his hair, feeling it reluctantly push past the leather, tangle slightly. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath.

Mulder's voice was small, scared. "Are you mad at me?"

Krycek's smile was more a grimace. "Why, Mulder, whatever would give you that idea?"

Mulder frowned, eyebrows knotting. "Why?"

"Oh, I don't know," Krycek said, his eyes finally striking Mulder's. "Could be I'm getting sick of being told how much you hate me, but I could be wrong."

"Krycek, you know I..." I'm sorry. What am I supposed to say? I'm supposed to hate you.

"No. I don't." The car skidded to a stop on a shoulder of the road, and Mulder sat, frozen, as Krycek tugged his seatbelt off and opened his door. The slam jerked him, pushed him to motion, opening his own door and running after Krycek, who had run across the abandoned road and was heading toward the beach.

The sun finally burst bright over the horizon, yellow and orange streaking up through the sky, illuminating Krycek and outlining his body like an aura as Mulder watched. He stood on an outcropping leaning out over the water, slowly raising his arms to the sky and the light, turning his face up.

I could push him off, Mulder thought. It would be so easy...no one would even miss him, realise he was gone. And he knows it. He...trusts me?

I could do that. But would I?

Krycek turned, saw him standing there. Mulder could see the telltale trails of wetness running down his face, the crease between his eyebrows. He looks like a different person when he's sad, Mulder thought. Pretty, painful...vulnerable. His face looked flushed, hot. His eyes...god, I wish I could see those colours. They're grey flames. I can't even describe the intensity of that face, those eyes.

With a growl, Krycek reached for Mulder, gripping his shoulders hard as he pushed him to the edge of the small cliff, the heels of his fancy Italian shoes an inch over, the sky blindingly bright behind him, making him a glowing angel, a ghost. All he has to do is slip... Krycek's fingers shook as he held on as tightly as he could. "Before we go on, you have to know. I didn't kill your father. I was framed. Don't lay that guilt trip on me."

He shook Mulder, watching the panicked expression flash over his face. He closed his eyes, turned his head away for a moment, heard himself making a sharp, keening sound. His voice went soft. "If you fall, I fall too, Mulder."

Mulder's breathing was quick, scared, hitching. "But..."

Krycek's fingers shifted slightly, and Mulder could tell that there would be bruises branding him soon enough. "You made your choice."

Yeah, I guess I did.

Maybe it would be best if we both just fell, right now. Make things a lot easier. But I can't do that to you, Mulder.

Krycek pulled Mulder away from the edge, took him in his arms, staring at the sun over his shoulder. Mulder slumped against him, looking dazedly at the dark sky in the west, the stars that were starting to fade out with the morning light. He listened to the sounds of dawn, the faint sound of birds shrieking with mindless joy, the crash of the sea, Krycek's quiet breathing. He could feel his heart again. The day had come.


End file.
